


Perchance to Dream

by alcimines



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcimines/pseuds/alcimines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Logan's death, the two goddesses who have shared his life have a talk. Relationships included are Jean/Ororo, Jean/Logan, Ororo/Logan, Jean/Logan/Ororo... and a few others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perchance to Dream

PERCHANCE TO DREAM

The view from the top of Mount Everest was spectacular.

Dark gray mountains clad with snow were scattered in every direction, like sentries guarding the approach to a titanic fortress. Only occasionally did they allow glimpses of cold and barren valleys. The sky was a peculiarly pale shade of blue. There were clouds, but they were fleeting and torn by the winds. It seemed to Ororo as if heaven itself was sullen and unhappy. Perhaps outraged that a part of Earth had somehow managed to thrust itself so high.

Ororo had been atop Everest once, a long time ago. Just getting to the peak had been a major ordeal. The winds were fickle and viciously powerful, made unpredictable and dangerous by the strange geography of the world's tallest mountains. Ororo came very close to disaster both on the flight up and down. When she finally returned to the X-Men's temporary Tibetan base - shaken, wind-burned, half-frozen, and yet exultant - Ororo's best friend was waiting for her. And proceeded to give Ororo a stern lecture born out of fear and concern.

But this time, Ororo's best friend was on top of the mountain with her.

Jean was right behind Ororo, her arms around Ororo's waist and resting her chin on Ororo's shoulder. Ororo had automatically adjusted the air pressure and temperature around them. It wasn't really necessary, of course, but some reactions are ingrained.

For a long moment, they both simply enjoyed the view.

"It has been a while," Ororo finally said.

"Yes, it has," Jean replied. Then she kissed Ororo on the back of her head. It seemed to Ororo that Jean's lips were warmer than normal. Warmer than human. Almost hot.

"Back to the mohawk, I see," Jean chuckled.

"It suited my mood," Ororo replied, her eyes still on the far peaks. "After my marriage ended, I felt the need for a change."

"With Logan gone, what change will you need now?" Jean asked softly.

Ororo didn't reply. Then she lowered her head and began to shake. Jean hugged her closer.

After a while, Ororo wiped her eyes and said, "Goddess, I miss him. I miss you. I wish this was more than just a dream. I wish we could really talk."

"We are talking," Jean said quietly.

Ororo frowned as she wiped her eyes again. "Are you saying that this is real?"

"The usual rules don't always apply to us. Why can't this be a dream, yet we're also really talking?"

Ororo actually managed to chuckle at that.

An errant howl of wind tried to pelt them with ice and snow. Ororo didn't bother to stop it, and the gust simply blew through them, as if they were ghosts.

And then they were gone.

*********************

Now naked and holding hands, Jean and Ororo were strolling down a sun-dappled beach. The cool surf licked at their feet. Overhead, seabirds called to each other as they wheeled through the sky.

"Remember this place?" Jean asked curiously.

Ororo nodded. "Of course - how could I forget? This is that tiny island off the coast of California. We took the day off, flew here, and had it all to ourselves. It was a wonderful day."

Jean seemed pleased with Ororo's answer. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Ororo glanced out at the seemingly endless sea and smiled thoughtfully. "Would it be that you didn't really 'accidentally' forget our swimsuits?"

Jean laughed. "I should have known that you'd figured that one out."

"If you had not done it, I would have," Ororo replied with an easy shrug. "I had already made up my mind that I was going to try and seduce you."

Jean nodded. "So why did we just spend the entire day walking, talking, and swimming?"

"I became frightened," confessed Ororo. "I decided at the last moment that I did not want to change our friendship. It was too important to me."

Jean shook her head and kicked at the sand. "The same thought crossed my mind. My, we were quite the daring pair, weren't we? Jean Grey and Ororo Munroe... X-Men and super-heroes. Frightened of nothing except each other."

Ororo took a deep breath of sea air and carefully looked all around, as if she was trying to memorize everything. "I will always love this place. Both for what it was... and for what it might have been."

"I understand," said Jean.

They vanished, leaving behind a trail of footprints that the surf began to greedily devour.

There were some prints that advanced further than the last place where Jean and Ororo had actually stood. They were very close, almost overlapping, and they faced one another.

*********************

They were in one of Tokyo's more disreputable neighborhoods. Yukio was never prone to fancy living. Her apartment's always seemed to be in buildings that looked like they were a few weeks away from being bulldozed to the ground.

In the living room, Logan, Ororo, and Yukio were peacefully asleep on a floor mattress. Ororo and Yukio had firm command of the only blanket and were intertwined within it. Contrasting black and white hair poked out of one end and bare feet stuck out of the other. Logan - snoring softly - had an arm and a leg cocked around them both, and seemed completely unfazed by the early morning chill.

Ororo smiled at the tangle of bodies and then glanced at Jean. "I take it you are not surprised? Or shocked?"

Jean shook her head. "Envious is a better word. I was never like you, Ororo - so daring and free. Instead, I played by the rules and was a good girl. Right up until I became the baddest girl of all."

Jean's last few words were filled with sadness. Ororo put an arm around her friend's shoulders.

Then the scene on the floor changed. Now the threesome consisted of Jean, Logan, and Scott.

Ororo blinked in surprise, and then gave Jean a sharp look. "This was never possible," Ororo said softly. "Logan and Scott are simply too competitive. It is not in their nature to make this kind of compromise with each other."

"I could have made it happen," Jean replied. Now there was something calculating in her voice.

"Yes, you could have," Ororo agreed hesitantly, carefully watching her friend's face.

"And that could have been for the best," Jean continued. "If the gap between Logan and Scott could have been somehow filled, it might have prevented disaster."

"Yes. It might have," Ororo agreed. "But in order to make it work..."

Ororo let her words hang.

"I would have been forced to manipulate their minds," Jean finished.

Ororo nodded. Jean fell silent for a long moment.

"You know, there was always another option," Jean said suddenly. "If I'd been less selfish, less fascinated in having Scott and Logan fight for me. If I'd allowed the equation of personalities to shift to something more cooperative..."

Jean paused again. Staring off into an array of alternative worlds.

"What do you mean?" Ororo asked worriedly.

Jean shook her head. "Nothing. It's just a thought. Which is a shame, because it would have worked so well if I'd been smart enough to see it and let it happen."

Clearly puzzled, Ororo opened her mouth to ask another question, but she wasn't quick enough. Suddenly, she and Jean were gone.

Behind them, for just a moment, the room lingered.

But now Ororo was tucked, gently smiling, between Logan and Scott.

*********************

They were back at the mansion, sitting on the back porch. However, it wasn't the new mansion - the one characterized by Hank's obsession with Shi'ar-based technology and mad-scientist architecture. Instead, it was the old mansion, from well before the Professor's death and the rift between Logan and Scott.

Almost everyone on the team was in the back yard, playing baseball. Scott was at bat. Ororo watched herself wind up and pitch a pretty decent fastball. Scott's powerful swing missed and the ball slammed into Logan's catcher's mitt.

"I miss this," Ororo said.

"So do I," Jean responded quietly.

For a while, they quietly watched the game.

The Jean spoke up. "By the way, is there something you want to ask me?"

Ororo squinted speculatively up at the brilliant sun. She judged that it was just after noon.

"Can I talk to him?" Ororo eventually asked. There was no need to specify who she was talking about.

Jean nodded. "I could arrange that, but are you sure you want to?"

Ororo considered that as she continued to contemplate the sky.

"Yes. No. Both," Ororo finally sighed. Then she shook her head in disgust, "What a cowardly answer."

"It strikes me as a very human answer," Jean said gently.

Then Jean leaned over and nipped Ororo's ear with her teeth. It was gesture that both women knew well. A dead man had taught it to them. It was Logan's short way of saying, "you're thinking too much".

Ororo gave Jean a look of mock-outrage as she rubbed her offended ear. "So, what is it that you want to tell me, Jean? I assume we are not here just to reminisce."

This time it was Jean who hesitated before speaking. "Yes. I want you to know that Logan is with me now."

Ororo nodded and said, "I know."

"Are you angry?" Jean asked quietly.

Ororo smiled sadly and shook her head. "No," she told Jean. "Logan and I were never given to jealousy over each other. We always reserved that for our other relationships. Maybe we should have noticed that a long time ago. And wondered what it meant."

A smile flickered across Jean's face and she nodded wordlessly.

"But he is mine when he comes back," Ororo added firmly. She wasn't challenging Jean. Instead, Ororo was simply stating a fact.

Jean stared at Ororo for moment. Then she nodded again. This time, perhaps the gesture was somewhat slower.

"I know it has been you all along," Ororo told Jean calmly. "The Phoenix rises for others beside you. You are the reason why death seems so temporary for us. You will not let us stay gone."

Jean cocked her head in Ororo's direction. It was a strikingly Logan-like gesture. "I'm surprised nobody else has figured that out."

Ororo shrugged, "I am sure some suspect, but it is a subject nobody would like to discuss. Why are you doing this, Jean? I doubt even you can frustrate time and death forever. And there must be a price for what you are doing."

Jean looked out into the distance. A strange kind of distance that was measured in both light years of distance and millennia of time. "You're needed, Ororo. All of you. I'm sorry, but I really can't explain any further. Just understand that it is necessary and I'm not doing it lightly. And someday you will all meet your final rest."

Ororo nodded. "Very well."

Jean's eyes met Ororo's. "You're very understanding."

"I trust you," Ororo replied simply. "Besides, you may consider it something of a professional courtesy."

"Goddess-to-goddess?" Jean asked knowingly.

Ororo just smiled.

And suddenly, the chairs they had been occupying were empty.

*********************

Ororo woke in her room. In her bed. Logan's beat-up leather jacket was tangled in her arms. It had his scent and that made it easier for Ororo to sleep.

Getting to her feet, Ororo pulled on the jacket. Then, naked except for the jacket, she padded on bare feet over to the window.

It was a clear night. A mostly full moon was painting the mansion grounds silver and white. A tree-covered hill stirred, opened its eyes, and looked at Ororo. Krakoa had sensed her presence. Ororo put the palm of her hand on the window to calm him, and the hill went back to being a hill.

"Take care of him, Jean," Ororo whispered. "Goddess knows he does a terrible job of it himself."

The moon seemed to wink in response.


End file.
